


all the days 'til you're back

by anniebibananie (alindy)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: "“I’m so tired of being mad at you,” she admits. Her voice is clear but nearly empty—exhausted and frustrated.His face softens with the admission, and he moves toward her to bend forward. It reminds her of a million years ago when she revealed her frayed edges—'You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, Sara.' Like then, he leans his forehead against her own."or. On his hunt for Mallus, Rip takes a moment to stop and see Sara.





	all the days 'til you're back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plinys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/gifts).
  * Inspired by [in our bedroom after the war](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12729144) by [TheSushiMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster). 



> There's a line in Shruti's fic "when you’re ready to come home" that basically just inspired me to write this fic while I was stuck on the train. It's just a small little drabble with like no context and it wasn't planned for Jess's birthday BUT since I wrote it and it's her birthday NOW IT'S HER BDAY FIC YAYYYYYYYYY

“I’m mad at you,” Sara says, staring at him from behind her desk on the waverider. Once his, before he left and everything changed. There are days Sara misses the simplicity of those times, misses Kendra and Rip. Misses adventures that felt less like the world was falling apart.

Rip leans against the side of the desk, the edges of his blue suit sharp and crisp. He had shown up without explanation, and Sara hadn’t even questioned it. There were moments they seemed to find each other—in history, in time—where their need for each other overrode everything else. Whatever fight or mystery was going on, the need for each other was more important.

“I know,” he says, and it makes the red beast in her chest flare up.

She breathes, though, in a practiced rhythm she’d learned in a yoga class long before she learned how to kill a handful of men in a couple of seconds.

“I’m so tired of being mad at you,” she admits. Her voice is clear but nearly empty—exhausted and frustrated.

His face softens with the admission, and he moves toward her to bend forward. It reminds her of a million years ago when she revealed her frayed edges— _You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, Sara._ Like then, he leans his forehead against her own.

“Then don’t be,” Rip says. His fingers edge on her neck into the blonde tendrils, pushing a few from around her face. He laughs a little, bitterly at himself. "I may be biased in the issue, though."

She reaches out and holds onto his face, leans into him as if there was any way for them to get even closer. Part of her itches to take it somewhere else, and she’s not sure if it’s out of a desire to push it to a realm she’s much more comfortable with, something meaningless, or because she can’t stop thinking about the cupid bow of his lip. It could be either, could be both, but Sara wants to wait until she’s entirely sure before acting on it.

“I won’t apologize,” he says like an apology.

And now it’s her turn to say. “I know.”

He stands up, brushes away the intimacy of the moment with the dirt on his pants leg. His cheeks are still flushed, though, and Sara can feel the heat of his palm even though it’s gone.

“You won’t tell them I stopped here?” he says.

He could mean the time bureau or the legends, but it wouldn’t change the answer. She shakes her head no.

Sara watches him walk away although he could use his watch at any moment to vanish from her again. Go back to his search for Mallus and his duty to history.

“I _do_ want to come home.” He wants her to know that, so much so he pushes through his discomfort and makes eye contact.

Sara nods, and she is still angry despite her words. She can’t quite look at him without the feeling of betrayal, but she assumes if he can look at her without feeling the same sense of anger she should try giving him that. She should attempt to let it go.

She nearly slips up and says _I’ll._ “We’ll be here.”

Then he finally clicks out of the room, and all she’s left with is a feeling of his skin and the whisper of his breath. A chance for tomorrow.


End file.
